


Seasons

by Haunt_Haunt_Haunt



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: AU-Chiss are Ancient Sith offshoots, Art Enthusiast Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Blackberries are Aphrodisiacs, EU Thrawn, F/M, I Forgot to Tag the Smut, Porn With Plot, So Here's Me Tagging the Smut, Strawberries are not, This was haaaaaaard, Weekly Release, aesthetic appreciation, fuck me running
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-18 11:13:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21560236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haunt_Haunt_Haunt/pseuds/Haunt_Haunt_Haunt
Summary: Thrawn has to choose between serving the Emperor, or serving himself. It's a hard decision.
Relationships: Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	1. Spring

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing that is copyrighted, blah blah blah don't sue me I am poor.

https://open.spotify.com/track/0kqRLlm0x883kz3fttwFea 

Thrawn looked out from his window on the command ship at the battle before him. It was fierce, but things like this always happened when you were bringing worlds into the fold of the glorious Empire. He looked down at his datapad, the elegant orchestra playing over the din of the battle below. World 245-C-8694 was the Imperial designation for it. The locals preferred to call it Yaltanith. It was nice enough, he supposed. Idyllic green jungles and valleys, the soaring mountains and rivers interspersed the jungle. the little population that they had were scattered outposts, most of the denizens preferring to live in the forests as tribes of family units, almost like clans. Technology was almost unheard of out here, and the planet could have just been forgotten, but the Taniths had something that the Emperor wanted, and it was for this reason that Thrawn began the engagement. Yaltanith, because he preferred to use the local tongue, was technologically inferior, but they had a phenomenally high percentage of Force users. Enough to dwarf the old Jedi.

Thrawn was certain that the Emperor was scared. Why else would he order that the planet be purged? It was a shame really. The Taniths were beautiful people, and Thrawn wondered if, after all of this was over, Vader or the Grand Inquisitor would visit the planet? It seemed likely. They were wiping out Force sensitives, and if Vader or the Inquisitorius is a part of their rebirth, then they would have a steady supply of Force sensitive soldiers. That didn’t mean Thrawn liked this job. The planet and its inhabitants were beautiful, a perfect blend of nature and man, and he was out here, slaughtering them like sheep, not that they didn’t have their own casualties. Laminate was great against blaster fire, but it did very little against the fire and lightning that sprung from the Tanith’s fingertips.

He, of course, had expected this. The Taniths, being so reclusive, wouldn’t have accepted visitors, including those that were extra-terrestrial. Would the Ascendancy? That was a bit of irony. The Ascendancy sent him out into the then-Republic because they were as reclusive as the Taniths. They were just more proactive about it and wanted to get to know the people they were going to be dealing with. The Taniths, instead of delving into technology like the Ascendancy instead delved into mysticism. They didn’t have hyperdrive. Not like the Chiss. That was why they were different. That was why Thrawn admired their tenacity. He admired it, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t crush them as his Emperor commanded.

“Pellaeon. Begin the orbital bombardment,” he said calmly into his comm, and pulled out a mirror, making sure his eyeliner wasn’t smudged.

“Sir, we still have men down there. We can’t-”

“That was an order, Captain,” Thrawn said, cutting him off. He was rewarded with glowing green bolts surging toward the ground, causing explosions where they hit. The jungles caught on fire, and Yaltanith burned. He frowned. Such a waste. The orbital bombardment picked up speed, and the command ship distanced itself just a little further, so as to not get hit in the barrage. In truth, the attack was fairly localized. Thrawn wasn’t planning to kill them all here. No, if he had learned anything from their artistic style, the Taniths didn’t respect the strength of arms. They respected strength of will. This was embodied in their delicate woodworking, which was light, practiced, and patient. A Tanith could produce a wood carving easily in an afternoon, but they took months or years perfecting one piece. What he was doing was bombarding the planet, where they would all see it, and then he’d go to their leaders and explain that he was exercising restraint. He could kill them all, but he wouldn’t. He wasn’t not following orders. He was just making whoever came after him’s job easier. They wouldn’t find the remains of a broken species. They would find the respect of a proud civilization ready to kneel before the Empire. He watched as the bombardment continued, as it strafed across the entire forest of this planetary sector. He waited, and the bombardment stopped.

He ordered his ship to take him in, and it did, landing in one of the craters that the bombardment had created. He put on his helmet, and his death guard prepared, checking their armor. The boarding ramp lowered, and his death guard moved to the rim of the crater, clearing the area. He stepped off cooly, walking to the lip of the crater and over it, his squad following him.

“Set blasters to stun. We don’t want to kill anymore than we have to,” he said, walking calmly through the wreckage of the Imperial fortifications and the wooden barricades the Taniths had erected. It was a mess of splinters, twisted metal, dust, smoke, and otherwise. He walked with his arms behind his back, surveying, and looking for survivors.

“I want squads Delta and Tango to make their way into the forests and put out what they can of the fires. Send a few fire suppression ships with them to call in. Squad Rancor and Squad Krayt can scour the local villages. Don’t kill anyone unless you have to. Set blasters to stun,” he said into his comm.

“Sir, His Highness is requesting to speak to you,” said Pellaeon over the comm.

“Patch him through, immediately,” Thrawn said, pulled out his holoprojector, and kneeled in the middle of the lush green jungle. This part had been narrowly missed by the bombardment. A flickering image appeared of Emperor Palpatine, in his robe. He was seated, his arms up in that twisted way that he had been in ever since the Jedi attacked him in the Senate building and crippled him.

“Grand Admiral,” Palpatine said. “Update me on the process of your purge. I sense that it has begun.”

“It has, your Majesty. However, I am not purging the planet,” he said, preparing to explain his reasoning.

“That would be against my direct orders, Grand Admiral. I sent you because I knew you could get the job done. Is that no longer the case?”

“I can purge the planet, your Highness. My thought process was that if we could get them to respect the Empire, you would have a populace to recruit from for the Inquisitorius.”

“You are not in charge of the Inquisitorius, Grand Admiral, nor is it your place to act against my orders.”

“Yes sir, but-”

“And another thing, Grand Admiral. I have designs for the planet, but I do not feel the need to discuss them with you, because it does not require your involvement.”

Thrawn said nothing. This man was tiring, and didn’t understand at all. He questioned if this was the time to return to the Ascendancy and tell them that the Empire was led by a fool and a despot.

“And finally, I have no use for savages in the employ of the Empire. Now purge the planet, or I will find a new Grand Admiral,” he said. That word. Thrawn hated that word. Savages. They had art and culture, they had gods and devils. They weren’t savages. They were indigenous people. It broke through his impassive mask, if just for a moment, but it was only a moment. He heard something, not quite a rustle,and it was barely audible, but Thrawn heard it. He drew his blaster and pointed without looking, firing into the brush. There was a yelp, then nothing.

“Of course, My Emperor. I serve the Empire, to the best of my ability.”

Palpatine looked startled for a moment, then grinned. “Good. Don’t fail me, Thrawn,” he said, and the holo winked out. Thrawn debated shooting it as well, but then took a breath, regaining his composure. He stood, putting the holo back in his uniform pocket and straightened his hair, then walked over to the being he shot, and was stunned.

She, he was pretty certain, was beautiful. She had the Tanith pointed ears, and the Tanith long green hair, but there was something else. The tattoo under her eye was deeply religious. He remembered that, but he wasn’t sure what the three claw marks actually represented. She was also garbed in the furs that were common, but the Tanith normally wore furs to keep out the cold. Hers were very revealing, being little more than a loincloth and something to cover her breasts. He almost pitied them. This was the first one that he had seen, of course, but she was so aesthetically pleasing, her strong, slightly muscled stomach rose and fell, indicating that she was indeed just stunned. It was a shame what he was about to do.

“Take her,” he said to his squad, then pressed his hand to his comm. “Purge the planet.”

The staccato of blaster fire was the only sound in the forest, followed by the screaming of the soon to be extinct race.


	2. Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's that time! Here's chapter two. I have some tweaks to do to the last chapter before I post it, but hopefully I can get that done in the next two weeks.

She woke up, and she was scared. The last thing she remembered was the blue man. The blue man and his men in black. They weren’t natural. They didn’t belong in this world. Not as nature intended. They were constructs of He-who-burns. The blue man led them. Was he the avatar of He-who-burns? He commanded them. What was he? He drew the torch thrower and shot her with such precision. That kind of skill was definitely that of a seasoned warrior.

She looked around. She was still dressed, and she was on a long comfortable slab. It felt like bedding, but better? Softer. It was definitely softer, and it was covered with super thin blankets. She wondered why their blankets were so thin. Winter would be here soon, and these men of the sky, if they were indeed men, would get cold, wouldn’t they? Other than that, the room was metal and featureless, with a single miniature sun in the middle of it, shedding light. That was curious. She reached out and poked it, and it swung a little. She wasn’t expecting anything like that. Had they created their own sun?

A portal opened up, the wall sliding away, and standing there was one of the men from the sky. It was one of the ones in black. She panicked, running over to the corner farthest from it.

“Na’thwe! Na’thwe Dionis!” she yelled, and the Skyman cocked its head, then placed a metal container on the bed. It then turned and walked out, making some kind of horrid noise as it left. The wall slid back into place, and she was alone again. She stayed in the corner for a good amount of time, but the Skyman didn’t come back. Was that good? She noticed that it was loud. It was readily apparent of course, humming, clicking, hissing, it was a veritable cacophony, and it should have been deafening, but it wasn’t. It was constantly in the background, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it.

She carefully walked over to the container and lifted the lid. Inside were berries. They were blackberries, which could be found, but they were far from her home. They were a delicacy and eaten sparingly in the temple, and usually were left as offerings to She-who-grows, or used in the various rituals. They were also a potent aphrodisiac. So why were these Skymen feeding them to her, and why did they have so many? She really didn’t like the implications of the blackberries. She looked around, and saw an unblinking metal eye in the ceiling, watching her. She huffed and folded her arms, not about to eat them, no matter how good they were. She was a priestess, not a caregiver, and it was forbidden for her to be touched in a sexual fashion unless she was preparing to give birth. Any Skyman that made the attempt would be electrocuted the moment they touched her.

Apparently that metal eye was reporting to the Skymen, because the wall slid open again, and the Skyman came in again. It put the lid on the tray and left, then came back with another. The wall opened and closed without it pausing, as if by magic, and the lights on the wall changed from green to red as it opened and closed it. She didn’t like where this was going, but they hadn’t hurt her yet. Not even the torch thrower hurt, and they had every opportunity to hurt her while she slept. She waited, but it didn’t come back. She opened the lid on this one. Strawberries. That was much more appropriate. It was cleansing and calming, and it was just rare enough that they fed them only to the priestesses. She picked one up and smelled it. It smelled fine, if a little… off. She bit into it, and it didn’t taste right at all. This was not how strawberries tasted. It wasn’t unpleasant, and she wasn’t going to spit it out, but there was some kind of fakeness to it. It wasn’t a real strawberry. She ate it carefully, trying to ignore her growling stomach.

How long had she been here? How long since she had eaten last? She had been fasting when the Skymen came, so it had already been awhile. She hated that she was breaking her fast, but these were extenuating circumstances. She ate another, glancing at the metal eye, then another. She was halfway finished with her third when the wall slid open. She didn’t cower this time. Not at first. And then the blue man came in. That made her cower. She ran back to the corner, crawling into a ball and hoping that he wouldn’t hurt her. He led them. He was responsible for the Tanith’s destruction. Her home, all of it ended because of him. To her surprise, he didn’t yell or make any demands. He walked in smoothly and sat on the edge of the bed, and grabbed a strawberry, then ate it.

He ate the fruit of the priestesses. Priests didn’t exist. What was he, that he could eat a fruit like that as a pagan? That was racist. Maybe he wasn’t a pagan? Did he follow the Four Points?

“Good evening. It’s good to see you awake,” he said. It sounded like noise to her. He must have been speaking, but she didn’t speak that. It was reminiscent of an ancient language that only the Elders spoke, but not quite. It sounded like that holy language well enough though, that she could make out what it was. It was a salutation. She was thankful she had paid attention to the High Priestess when she did the lessons. He was greeting her. She wasn’t good at this language, but she would try.

“H...Hello?” she said, doing her best to speak it. How did this man know it though? He got an interesting look on his face, then his mouth changed just a little, and he spoke again.

“Is this better?” he said, and she understood him! He was speaking the language of the Gods perfectly! She was certain that he was an avatar now, and had to be He-who-burns. He was the only one with that kind of power. She dropped to her knees in supplication.

“Your holiness! I am honored by your presence, and that you would deign to speak to me, a mere priestess.”

He got that look again, then spoke. “I think there must be some miscommunication. I’m not a god.” His accent was… odd. Definitely odd. It was like he was speaking with more parts than she had in her throat.

“Perhaps you are unaware? You speak the language of the gods, and you command hundreds of Skymen. You came out of nowhere, descending from the heavens, and you burned the jungles, just as prophecy foretold. You must be He-who-burns.”

He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “I doubt that, but I will not insult you or your culture by continuing to refuse. Perhaps I am. Perhaps I am unaware. But you may call me Mitth'raw'nuruodo.”

“If that is what you wish, Mitth'raw'nuruodo,” she said, and she said it flawlessly. His eyebrows knitted together. Was it odd that she could say his name? It was a mouthful, and it was hard to do with her throat, but she was by no means illiterate in her studies. It meant Jewel of the Mitth’ra-Odo, which she assumed was a title.

“I would prefer if you just called me Thrawn. It’s less of a mouthful. You’re Chiss is flawless, or is it Ancient Sith? They are virtually the same. Chiss just has more nuance.”

“I speak the language of the gods. I know nothing of the Chiss or the Sith. I am sorry if I offend you, great one.”

“You don’t offend me. I was worried that we would have trouble communicating, but you speak my native language. We will work on your Basic. Do you have a preferred food? I want to make sure that you are properly fed. Also, you may stand,” he said, taking another strawberry and eating it. She noticed that the portal was open now, but she had no desire to leave. If he was a god, then she was safe. She feared He-who-burns, but if the avatar kept her alive, then she had some purpose to him, and nothing to fear.

“I eat strawberries. I like blackberries, but they are holy and a powerful aphrodisiac. I, as a priestess, may not engage in carnal acts with someone unless I am planning to carry a child, so I couldn’t eat them. I get meat rarely, only on holidays when the hunters are particularly successful, and otherwise, I eat nuts and berries,” she said, standing and resting against the wall.

“And if you had more ready access to things like meat, would you be willing to eat it?”

She laughed. “I trust the prowess of your Skymen, but they must eat too, and no one is that skilled. But to answer your question, I would.”

“What did you say your name was?”

“I am Naisha.” She pronounced it Nigh-ee-sha. She had no surname. No priestess did. They belonged to the gods.

“Well, Naisha, I think we’d best get this out of the way,” he said, and gestured at the portal, standing. She seemed unsure, but followed him through it. Before them was a gigantic two floor room. It was lined with bookcases and artwork in stasis chambers, and the most stunning part was the middle of the room. There was a hole in the floor with a chair in the middle, and under it was a black expanse of void and starlight. There was the same at the top of the room, and the walls were lined with glass that looked out. It was so much. She was in the sky? It was a lot to fathom, and the last thing she remembered was how cold the ground was when she fell onto it.


	3. Autumn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the sex starts. I told you it'd be coming! It's a little late but I hope you enjoy it!

“Naisha,” Thrawn said from his command chair. She came into view with her feather duster.

“Yes, Master?” she said, bowing slightly. Thrawn still wasn’t comfortable with that. He was pretty sure he wasn’t the incarnation of her God of destruction, but he was having the damnedest time trying to stop her, and to no avail. She kept insisting. Even as he showed her the holonet, even as he introduced her to technologies and the Empire, she insisted that he was a god. He felt it disingenuous, but he had tried to persuade her otherwise, so it wasn’t his fault. He’d also never admit that he liked it.

He also didn’t know why she kept wearing those furs, which was actually what he wanted to speak to her about. “I wanted to talk to you about your state of dress,” he said, crossing his leg over his knee and resting on the arm rest.

“I’m dressed as a priestess. Is this not pleasing to you, master?”

“What does that mean, dressed as a priestess?” he asked, noting that her Basic was getting much better. There was nothing like immersion.

“I am not unclothed, as it’s taboo to for a priestess to be so in front of men, gods not withstanding. However, it would also be sinful to hide the form of She-who-grows, and women are created in her image, so I’m as unclothed as I can be without breaking that taboo. Would you prefer that I not do this?” she asked, clearly curious and not at all offended. She was pure. Thrawn had come to appreciate that about her. She was not naive by any means, but she was pure and steadfast in her beliefs.

“I don’t wish to infringe on your beliefs, of course, because they’re valid. However, you’re making my men… hungry, for lack of a better word. Keep in mind that you’re the only female in this vessel, and most of my men I can trust, but I didn’t handpick everyone on this ship. Rukh can only stop so many, and I am not always present.”

“Rukh. That’s your… demon, yes?”

He snorted. If the Nohgri had heard that, he would have laughed hard. “Yes. Rukh guards the door. Still, I can’t promise your safety, and if you showed less skin, my men may not be so… upset?”

She nodded. “Master, I would never refuse an order, and I will do this if you desire, but I must insist that you’re worrying about nothing. The demon guards the door, and I am not defenseless. You have seen my skill. I’ve beaten you before, more than once. I am not in danger. Men always desire for more than they deserve. They can’t have me.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Like he was thinking, she wasn’t naive or stupid by any stretch of the imagination, but she was definitely not world wary. “I won’t order you to do something if it’s against your religion. I would never do that.”

“Is it not pleasing to you, Master? It’s for you. We serve the gods and married them, so in a way, I am your wife.”

Great. This again. How did he explain ace/aro to someone that was unfamiliar with the concept? It wasn’t that she was unpleasing. It was the whole reason she was here. She was like a mobile piece of Tanith artwork. He valued her for her aesthetic value. And yes, he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t have thoughts, but that wasn’t her purpose.

“I’m not having you clean because you’re my wife. I collect art. You’ve seen this. You’ve come closer to my artwork than any person except myself. You’re like that artwork. I admire you and your aesthetic value. That doesn’t mean that you belong to me. I’m only having you clean because I want you to have a purpose. I have offered you books, I have offered you artistic supplies, yet you insist that you want to clean, so I let you. That said, I value you and your aesthetic, but you don’t belong to me, and you don’t owe me anything,” he said, doing his best to explain. It was a complicated mess.

She screwed up her face. “Aes… Aesthetic. What does that mean?” she asked.

“It has many meanings, but the way I use it is that you’re pleasing. Your form, your look, the way you move, it’s pleasing to the eye.”

“So… you desire me?” she asked, looking very confused. It was almost like talking to a small child with tits. That wasn’t fair though. She was very new to the galaxy. It’d only been a month since they purged her people and brought her on board.

“It’s not like that. It’s an aesthetic attraction, as opposed to sexual attraction. I like to look at you, and I find you appealing. I don’t desire you.” That was a lie. He did. Not really to have sex with, but he had allowed himself those thoughts on more lonely nights.

“So, it’s like the art you collect. You like to look at it and learn from it, but you don’t desire it.”

“It’s a poor choice of words, but yes. Just like that.”

She nodded, and turned, dusting a priceless vase suspended in a stasis chamber. She was more dusting the chamber. “So, what do you do with art when it no longer pleases you?” She asked, and it was like she had just told him that his mother had died. Art no longer pleasing him? What a preposterous scenario.

“That doesn’t happen, Naisha. Art always pleases me.”

“I grow old. I wither. I wrinkle. In time, I die. Your art does not. What will you do when I no longer please you?”

He had to think about that. “Naisha, how long do Tanith live?”

“Well, the men are often killed on hunts or other tasks, as is befitting of warriors, but our Eldest is…” She was doing the math, using her fingers, putting Tanith years to Galactic Standard years. She was an ace at math. “She is five thousand of your years,” she said, going back to dusting.

Thrawn did a face. It wasn’t often that Thrawn did a face. “And how old are you?”

“I am fifty of your years. Though, I suppose I look like your 19 year-olds from what I can see on the holonet. Human, anyway.”

Wow. He wasn’t expecting that. “Naisha, I don’t think we’re going to have to worry about you not pleasing me for a very long time, and by the time that happens, it won’t matter anymore.” Which was a nice way of saying that he was going to die before her. He hadn’t considered that. She finished dusting.

“Master, I do want to talk about something,” she said, putting her duster down and tying her green hair back to braid it in a long braid. It reached down to her ass. That was something else that was a priestess thing. She wasn’t allowed to cut her hair. It stopped growing naturally at that point though.

“You have freedom to speak. You always have the freedom to speak.”

“Going back to our earlier discussion, I want to know how I can best please you and serve you. I do owe you. You didn’t show me The Great Sleep. You didn’t let your Sky..” she paused. “Storm and Death Troopers hurt me. You saved me, and you took me into the sky. Into the heavens. Your domain. You clothed me, you feed me, you provide for me, and you protect me.” She finished her braid, having it done quickly. She walked down the void glass dome, barefoot as always, and got on her knees in front of him. She was incredibly close, and Thrawn would be lying if he said that he wasn’t entertaining some of those thoughts again. “So, I do owe you, Master. I owe you a great deal. You have done your part as He-who-burns, and I feel that I haven’t done my part as your priestess. The Elders said that they couldn’t instruct us to serve the Gods because they were not Gods, but you are. So tell me, master, how do I serve you? How do I please you? What do I do to be more pleasing to your eyes?”

That felt like a loaded question. He wasn’t her god, but she was certain he was. He didn’t feel right if he answered that the way he wanted. It would be dubious consent, at best, because she is under false pretenses, and he didn’t do that unless the consent is enthusiastic. He settled on something risky. Maybe they could both get what they want? “What do you want me to say, Naisha?”

She looked like she was calculating. She was highly intelligent. Her intelligence was on par with his own. That was one of the reasons he liked her so much. “I have permission to be honest, no judgement?”

“Of course.”

“I want you to let me touch you. I want you to let me please you, physically. I want to know what the divine feels like. I want you to bear fearsome children with me, and we can watch them go conquer in your name. I want to sleep next to you. I want to comfort you, and I want you to do all of that to me. All it’s been so far is staying in this room and do what makes me happy, but that isn’t what makes me happy, Master. What makes me happy is to be in your presence and serving you personally.”

What did he say to that? In some way, he knew that would be her answer. He figured, maybe if she said something else, he’d let him believe her lie, but no, she thought he was a god, and she had said that lying to her god was the most heinous of blasphemies. He didn’t want her to commit a sin to her religion and have sex with him. That would be disingenuous to her. Was there a happy medium?

“Naisha, I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Master, I know I can make you happy. We were taught the carnal arts, and we had men that we practiced on. I never had any of them say that I wasn’t skilled. I can do this, if you’ll let me.” She took a calculated risk and sat up on her knees, placing her hands on his thighs. It wasn’t sexual contact, but there was no doubt that this was risky territory, even for her. If she had practiced on men, then wouldn’t this be the same thing? He was thinking with his dick, and if anyone knew that Thrawn had that one weakness, it would ruin him. He opted to say nothing, but he didn’t push her away. All he could do was look in her bright green eyes. They contrasted well with her dark skin. It was dangerous.

His lack of protest apparently spurred her on. She made another risk, running her hands up his thighs to his pants and unbuttoned them. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t push her away. She reached up, crawling into his lap, which wasn’t hard for her to do. She was only five foot and Thrawn was an imposing six foot three. She straddled his legs as best as she could in the chair, and leaned forward, kissing him gently on the cheek. He couldn’t stop her. He was in too deep. For the first time in Thrawn’s life, he was completely at a loss for how to proceed. Her warm hands grabbed his face, and she kissed his lips. All his inhibition crumbled. He met her kiss as best as he could, and she grabbed the collar of his uniform, pulling him into her kiss. She then let go and one of her hands roamed through his blueish hair, and the other rubbed along his neck and collarbone. At the same time, she thrust her tongue into his mouth, and he met it with his own, kissing her aggressively.

He picked her up, and she didn’t stop kissing him. She wasn’t very heavy. Maybe one hundred pounds at most, and he carried her into the attached bedroom. She pulled away from him, and he put her on the bed. She didn’t let him sit, instead, reaching up and finding his mouth again. With her free hands, she unbuttoned and stripped off his white uniform jacket, revealing the dark gray shirt underneath. She didn’t let that stop her either, stripping that off with as much ceremony as you’d pay to a banana peel. She kissed his neck, and he let her, placing a hand on her head and the other roaming lightly over her arm. She was so small compared to him. He was built like a soldier, but she had the frame of a… well… priestess. Point was, his whole hand could wrap around her arm. She didn’t seem to mind, kissing his neck, then moving down to kiss his chest and muscled torso. He closed his eyes, getting lost in the feeling. It was amazing. He hadn’t been touched like this in a long time. Really, he’d never felt like it. She did something to him, and he didn’t know what it was, but this was Thrawn. Even in the midst of foreplay, he was analyzing the situation.

She kissed and licked his chest lightly, then lowered his pants. He was standing in his underwear, and she grabbed him through it, stroking him. He gasped, feeling the sensation, and she seemed unsure. She looked at him. “Master, you feel different than most men. You have… ridges? We sometimes did piercings for men in the caretaker field. Is it like that?”

He exhaled. “Not exactly, but it works the same,” he said. She nodded and lowered his underwear, looking at what she had to deal with. It had about three hard but fleshy ridges along the top, but was smooth on the bottom, and it was blue and nestled into blueish hair. That was fine. It wasn’t too different. She sat up and ran her hand along the bottom, pointing it up, and met his mouth again, thrusting her tongue back in. She rubbed him and grabbed him and stroked him, and those ridges were filled with nerves. He breathed a little harder, and she lowered herself down, putting him in her mouth and running her tongue along his head and around the ridges. It wasn’t going to take much. He grabbed her head and facefucked her. He was going to regret it later, but she didn’t seem to mind, closing her eyes and reaching her hands around him, grabbing his ass and squeezing. He came only five seconds later with a large shudder, and she let him cum in her mouth, still working him pretty hard, heightening the sensation. Then she pulled away and swallowed his semen.


	4. Winter

He breathed hard, leaning on the bed. She was looking him in the eyes. She had a little semen on her chin, and he reached out gently, wiping it away with his thumb. She blinked, clearly not expecting that, and smiled. “How did I do, Master?”

“Very well, Naisha. You’re very skilled.” He crawled onto the bed, resting on the pillow and wondering how he was going to reciprocate that wouldn’t violate her laws. That was tricky. He couldn’t even look at her naked. She rolled, resting her head on his arm. He moved it, and she crawled into the crook of it, placing her hand in his chest and playing with the sparse bluish hair.

“I’m glad I could make you happy,” she said, running her nails over his chest.

“I want to make you happy as well. I’m just not sure how.”

“Well, Master, to be honest, I’m kind of afraid of it? We practiced on men, but they were blindfolded and bound, and we didn’t let them inside of us.”

He snorted. He couldn’t help it. She made Thrawn break his mask, and for the first time since the Ascendancy, he was feeling again. He did want to make her his warrior queen, and that was something that he didn’t think he would ever feel again. “So how do I make you happy if you don’t want me inside of you? I suppose I could use my hands.”

“No. That’s okay. My pleasure isn’t important. I’m glad that I could do that for you,” she said, but turned a little pink.

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, I’m glad that I could please you, but I’m kind of… well, I have needs too sometimes. I think I have an idea. Come with me,” she said and sprung out of the bed. He went to grab his pants, but she stopped him. “No, I want you to touch yourself. Those aren’t necessary.”

“Naisha, I have men on this ship that I command.”

She put her hands on her hips defiantly. “That didn’t stop you two minutes ago. Besides, your demon will keep them out.”

He shrugged and followed her, and she set him in his chair, facing the swinging chair that he got for her, so that she could sit and look out the window. She turned to him.

“Master, I want to touch myself, and I want you to touch yourself while you watch me. Is that okay?”

He thought about it for a minute. It’d been awhile since he had been adventurous. “Of course.”

She turned a little pink, suddenly unsure. Then slowly started taking her clothes off. She started with what was little more than a strip of fur around her chest, and it fell to the floor revealing her rust colored nipples. Her chest wasn’t really too large, all things considered. It was enough to be noticeable when she wore a tank top, but not enough to give her back problems. She sat in the chair, facing him, and pinched her own nipples, closing her eyes. She gasped and pinched and at one point pulled, biting her own lip and being a little noisy. It felt amazing, and she wanted nothing more than for it to be him, but it wasn’t. She still had an active imagination. She pulled and squirmed, hoping that she was pleasing to him. She cracked open an eye. He was leaning in his chair and steepling his fingers. He was watching, and he was hard, but he wasn’t touching himself yet. She worked down the rest of what she was wearing, revealing green hair that was remarkably well kempt. It formed a small green strip right above her clit. She ran her fingers around it and through it, and she peeked. Thrawn had leaned back and was running his hand down his cock, which she took to be a good thing.

She ran her fingers along her lips, hiking her legs up so that he could have a good view, and with the other hand, she put her knuckle in her mouth to keep from making too much noise. She was pretty certain that her whole body was red, and something about this, about him watching, it only made her more turned on. She ran her hand along her lips and then put a little pressure right above her clit. She was already dripping from servicing him earlier. She applied a little bit more pleasure and closed her eyes, gasping. It felt so good. She took her knuckle out of her mouth and slid her hand along the opening, and with the other one, she pulled the lips around the clit and stroked herself like that, this time moaning just a little. She was getting wrapped up in the feeling, and wished that he was in her mouth again. She applied a little bit of pressure directly to her clit, and sunk her fingers in just past the first ring of muscles, and she moaned louder.

She slowly worked her fingers in and out, massaging her own clit, and squirming and moaning and whining. She moved her hips in motion with her hands, pressing harder and going a little faster inside until she felt herself get to the edge, and she couldn’t get over it. She was trying and she was pushing and she wanted to orgasm so badly, but she couldn’t, and she whined a little, just wanting to take that final leap.

She felt a hand on her leg, and her eyes darted open. He was lightly stroking himself. She scrambled out of the chair and put him in her mouth, which surprised him, but he wasn’t going to complain. She sucked on him and kept playing with her clit, and she felt it. She came, and she came hard, her whole body locking up, and he grabbed her head again and fucked her face again, and she let him. She let him and even played with his balls, and he got off too. This time, she pulled away, letting him cum on her chest. It was thicker than most men’s, but it was probably more potent.

“Master, I want you inside me. Please master!” she said, clawing at his legs.

“Naisha.” he said, but then formed his mouth in a firm line and picked her up, putting her in the chair, then slid himself in. He was so big, she thought he wouldn’t fit, and it was a tight fit. Those ridges were amazing. This was the first time she had ever had a man in her, and she was glad it was him. He started moving his hips back and forth, sliding his ridged cock in and out of her, and she moaned, rubbing her clit again. He was so big and he filled her up and those ridges were amazing and the more she thought, the closer she got, and the faster he went. He grabbed her thighs and pulled them apart and started fucking her harder, and she could only moan and gasp. It was amazing, and then she orgasmed the hardest she ever had in her life. There was a rush of fluids that no doubt coated his cock and pubes completely, but her screams only made him go faster and harder. She felt a second one coming and screamed again.

“Fuck! Master fuck me!” she screamed, and he did, grunting on his own, and then he pulled out, stroking himself, and she scrambled to get him in her mouth again, and he came, and there was a lot of it. She swallowed all of it, then took her time licking her own fluids off of him. He was gasping. Thrawn wasn’t a young man anymore. He took her by the hand, and she could hardly stand, her thighs burned, and she actually fell. Everything ached and was sore, and she almost felt drunk. He scooped her up, his arms under her legs, and took her back in his room and laid her down, then laid down himself. She rolled into the crook of his arm and became jelly on his chest, and eventually, they both fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it folks. That's the end. I hoped you enjoyed the read!

**Author's Note:**

> Remember, if you like it, hit that kudos button! It lets me know if I need to revisit these two!


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